


Secret Chord

by redstapler



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Gen, I wrote this in 2008, M/M, Multi, Songfic, it's the framework, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redstapler/pseuds/redstapler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fanfic would not exist if it weren't for my friend coyotegoth, and a jukebox in a bar many years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Chord

_I heard there was a secret chord_  
 _that David played and it pleased the lord_  
 _but you don't really care for music, do you_  
 _well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth_  
 _the minor fall and the major lift_  
 _the baffled king composing hallelujah_  
  
On July 29th, 1991, Albus Dumbledore finished signing Harry Potter's Hogwarts letter. Immediately after that, he wrote to his friend, Nicolas Flamel.  
  
Dumbledore had this terrible feeling--and the Centaurs would later confirm it--that the moment Harry came back to the Wizarding world, it would all start again. Back during the First War, Flamel had placed the Philosopher's Stone in a vault, deep in Gringotts. Dumbledore had never been terribly happy about this--he'd felt it was too much of a gamble. If the Ministry had fallen to Voldemort, anyone could have gotten it.  
  
Now that Harry was around, Dumbledore wasn't going to take a single chance. He gave Hagrid the key to Vault 713 and instructed him to retrieve the Stone. He wouldn't be calm until it was under his own protection. He felt even more satisfied with his decision several weeks later when the Vault was broken into. He called a senior staff meeting that very night.  
  
"Sit down, everyone. Thank you." He waited patiently while everyone settled themselves around the table in the the staff lounge. He casually aimed his wand at the door and locked it, and then, aiming closely at the keyhole, muttered, " _Muffliato._ " He always forgot to thank Severus for sharing that one. Everyone looked like they were ready to listen.  
  
"Thank you all for coming, I know many of you are tired from chaperoning today's Hogsmeade visit. However, what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance." The last vestiges of whispers and fidgeting ceased. "Not long before the term began, I had the Philosopher's Stone relocated here to Hogwarts." There was a collective gasp. Expected. "Given today's events, I think it would be in everyone's best interests to devise a labyrinth of sorts to protect it. I trust you all to be your brilliant selves."  
  
Over the next three hours, each staff member put together their test. At about the hour and a half point, just as Dumbledore had figured, Severus approached him, parchment in hand.  
  
"Sir, here is my plan." Dumbledore skimmed the page, finding the plan it contained efficient and ruthless. Just like Severus. "I'd like to speak with you."  
  
"You have my full attention, Severus."  
  
"Alone, sir."  
  
The two men exited the room, and moved down the hall. Severus cast  _Muffliato_  again.  
  
"Sir, I believe that Quirrell--" Dumbledore cut him off.  
  
"Severus, I know what you're about to say. I assure you that there is no way, no matter how he--or anyone--tries, that the Stone can be stolen from within this castle. Voldemort himself--"  
  
"Sir, I think you may be underestimating--"  
  
"I underestimate nothing. The Stone is safe here."  
  
The next day, Dumbledore made Hagrid's year by asking him to provide his own test for the labyrinth. Dumbledore decided not to ask too many questions when, entirely too quickly for his liking, Hagrid informed him he had located a three-headed dog he'd christened "Fluffy." Hagrid always did have a way with animals.  
  
"Oh, one more thing, sir." Hagrid had popped his head back into Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Yes, Hagrid?"  
  
"The only way ter get past Fluffy is ter put him ter sleep with music. I kin' do jes' fine with my pipes," Hagrid held up a large pan flute, "but you may need summat else."  
  
"Thank you, Hagrid. I've been looking for an excuse to take up music composition again."  
  
The next several hours found Dumbledore researching magical music theory.  
  
  
 _well your faith was strong but you needed proof_  
 _you saw her bathing on the roof_  
 _her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you_  
 _she tied you to her kitchen chair_  
 _she broke your throne and she cut your hair_  
 _and from your lips she drew the hallelujah_  
  
Frank Longbottom had thought it was only a matter of time before They Got Him. And, Gods forbid, Alice. And, over his dead body, their son. But he still knew, one day, it would all be over. And then Halloween happened, bringing the crushing loss of James and Lily, but also the relief of You-Know-Who's death. It was over, and they'd survived. Thank all the Gods, big and small.  
  
On this particular night, Frank was Off. He had no Order business, Alice was enjoying the idea of a solitary night in, and his mother had Neville. By God, he was going out. He'd gotten an owl from an old school friend of his, Barty Crouch Jr. They were going to meet and have a pint for the first time in...well, no one had heard much from him in the last few months, but then, everyone had been laying low, hadn't they? He'd heard awful rumors about Barty once in a while, but none of them fit the smiling, clever boy he'd known at Hogwarts.  
  
He made his way to a pub in the middle of London, known for being a wild mix of Muggle and Wizard. Frank marveled at the sheer, simple joy of going for a pint with a mate, when this time last year, they'd barely been able to leave the flat for groceries. He opened the door, and there was Barty, seated at a small table in the corner, two pints already there. One for each of them. Barty stood up and hugged Frank, removing any doubt from his mind where Barty's allegiances lay.  
  
"Frank."  
  
"Barty. I can't tell you how glad I was to get your owl."  
  
"I was glad to be able to send it! A hell of a fall we've had, eh?"  
  
"For sure." The two men sat and both took long pulls on their beers.  
  
"How's your boy?" Before things had gotten too awful, Barty had been over a lot helping out after Neville had been born. He'd presented an excellent distraction from Frank's mother, who seemed keen on being at the flat all the time and telling him and Alice what to do.  
  
"Neville's doing well. Sweet, wonderful kid. He looks more like Alice every day."  
  
"I believe it. Terrible shame about the Potters. They say Harry's completely disappeared."  
  
"It's true. They say no one knows but Dumbledore, and you know he's not telling."  
  
"Ahh, yes. Dumbledore. The Secret Keeper's Secret Keeper." Frank shifted uncomfortably at that. He'd heard about some skullduggery regarding the Potters, but for now, he was still too shaken by the idea that Sirius...well...they always say blood will out, and hadn't it just? Frank took another deep drink and found the bottom of his glass.  
  
"I heard Sirius won't stop screaming, up there in Azkaban." Frank eyed Barty. Had Barty suddenly gone Legilimens on him? "They say no matter how many Dementors surround him, he just...screams."  
  
"Where did you hear that?" Frank never found out. The lights of The Intrepid Fox pub dimmed out, and the world went black and silent.  
  
He woke to find himself in his own flat. He was bound. Alice was next to him in a similar state. Barty was there, as well as Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. What the bloody HELL was going on? Frank struggled against the ropes, but it was a loss. Sound came back to the world, and it was a full volume blast of Alice, his Alice, screaming.  
  
"I DON'T KNOW, DAMN YOU!" Alice relaxed suddenly, and panted, recovering.  
  
"You don't know." Bellatrix sauntered around their kitchen with a malevolent grace. "That's all you keep fucking saying. Tell me, Alice, darling, how can a little boy make Voldemort disappear? Where is Voldemort? Where is the boy?" Before Alice could say another word, Bellatrix aimed her wand. " _Crucio_." The world went black for Frank again.  
  
The light never returned.  
  
Frank and Alice were found by his mother, returning the next morning with Neville. Barty, Bellatrix, and Rodolphus were nowhere to be found. Alice was vacant eyed and silent, but Frank was muttering and wouldn't stop. They were moved to St. Mungo's at once.  
  
Years later, Neville bent to kiss his father's cheek. Though he never told anyone, he could have almost sworn he heard his father praying. He must have been praying, because he kept saying "hallelujah..."  
  
 _Baby I've been here before_  
 _I've seen this room and I've walked this floor_  
 _I used to live alone before I knew ya_  
 _I've seen your flag on the marble arch_  
 _But love is not a victory march_  
 _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_  
  
After her fifth year at Hogwarts, Nymphadora's mother had taken her to meet Joan, a Muggle Seer she knew in London. (She really took that "rebellion" thing to heart, Mum did.) After some tea and some chat, Joan's eyes had suddenly lost focus, and she glittered with a magical aura that until that moment, the Tonkses would have refused to believe a Muggle could produce.  
  
In a hollow voice, Joan informed them Nymphadora would mother a single son, who would be raised by Andromeda. The father would have amber eyes. As she began to speak further, Joan's eyes rolled up in her head. Andromeda brought her around, and for the first time in her career, Joan had no recollection of a session. Shaken, Andromeda Obliviated both her daughter and Joan. The incident was never spoken of again.  
  
Now it was one month, two weeks, and four days since her cousin had died. Her cousin, who she'd only just begun to know. It was on that day, one month, two weeks, and four days later, that she kissed Remus John Lupin for the first time. Remus John Lupin, who, she had it on decent authority (i.e., his), had been--from about the middle of their sixth year at school, until one month, two weeks, and three days ago--fucking her cousin. You know, minus that twelve-year hiatus.  
  
It had been four days and change since she'd last kissed Remus. She felt ridiculous for keeping count like that, but it was as though she could actually hear their lives ticking out.  
  
The first time she'd looked into Lupin's kind eyes, Nymphadora felt drawn to him, pulled to him, as if she could feel the weave and fabric of fate being stretched. The first time he touched her, she'd felt it rend.  
  
The first time they made love, she saw he felt it, too. It terrified him. But, she found it intoxicating and additctive--which was why it hurt so much when he pulled away.  
  
The night after Dumbledore died, after their very public row, she went to his flat. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"It is I, Nymphadora Tonks. I...I love you."  
  
"Enter." Lupin's voice sounded hollow.  
  
"God, I hate that, 'it is I!' crap. It is I, LEX LUTHOR! Stupid Ministry." She was joking to cover up how nervous she was. In all the time they'd been...whatever you could call it, she'd never been to his flat. He'd always gone to hers. She spared no time to take in the appearance of his living quarters. She only had eyes for him.  
  
"Hello, Dora."  
  
"Remus."  
  
"I--" they both started at the same time. "You first," they both said. For the first time in her life, she decided to shut up and listen. Remus spoke first, calling her silent bluff.  
  
"I don't know why you're still here. I don't know why you love me. I don't know what's going to happen, but, my God, I can't do another goodbye."  
  
"I--what?" This wasn't the sort of confession she was expecting.  
  
"Do you realize I have said goodbye to every single person who's loved me? My parents. James. Sirius. Peter, that traitorous shit. And now Dumbledore. I want you to understand, to appreciate, that if I let you take me in, you are the only person I have left."  
  
"What? Remus, don't be silly. There's a dozen Weasleys lining up to talk to you daily. And what about Harry? And Hermione. They love you."  
  
"Do they? Molly only just recently stopped looking at me like an unstable molecule. And Harry...oh, Christ, what a foul-up there."  
  
"What are you on about?"  
  
"He only looks up to me because I'm the only one left. He'd much rather have Sirius. And Sirius is dead, and oh, God, I can't do this. I can either be dead or alone, but I can't...I can't mortgage my heart."  
  
"So you're saying you'd rather be Snape than be with me. That's really charming, Remus."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"That man closed himself off Gods only know how many years ago. He loves somebody, I'll bet my left tit on it. I pity the poor woman who was the object of his affection."  
  
"What do you mean was?" Remus had theories, but he knew know wasn't the time to share.  
  
"Clearly she's gone, dead, or both. No one attains that level of Heathcliff priggishness if there's still a ghost's hope of a chance. Don't do that to yourself. I'm here Remus. I'm here, and I love you, and I swear on all the Gods and fishes, I'm not leaving." With that she kissed him, and when she checked the calendar later, she was pretty sure that was the night they conceived Teddy.  
  
After the Battle of Hogwarts, it didn't occur to anyone to question the calm with which Andromeda Tonks received the awful news.  
  
 _There was a time when you let me know_  
 _What's really going on below_  
 _But now you never show that to me do ya_  
 _But remember when I moved in you_  
 _And the holy dove was moving too_  
 _And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_  
  
Ginny Weasley never bothered to count herself as a virgin.  
  
By the time she knew what the word meant, she'd already been penetrated more deeply, and violated more thoroughly than she could even bear to remember. She knew her mother would be scandalized and horrified, in that order, to hear such thoughts, but well, it happened, so why dwell? Her six big, burly brothers, overprotective as they were, hadn't been able to protect her from what happened. She didn't blame them, it just, you know, was.  
  
She never slept with Dean Thomas. Or Michael Corner. She couldn't bear to let anyone that close.  
  
Every time she almost did (and it happened a few times with both of them), she heard Tom's voice. Tom's mellifluous, hypnotic voice, asking why she hadn't written to him, hadn't talked to him lately? Ginny feared she was doomed to be half a virgin forever, in body, but not in mind.  
  
And then she slept with Harry Potter.  
  
It was right after the Last Battle. After searching high and low for him, she found Harry, in his bed in the dormitory. He was asleep, looking peaceful and relaxed, for what she she was sure had to the first time in a very long time. No more visions, no more nightmares, just exhausted sleep. She crawled under the covers as gently as she could manage, only to have Harry shoot awake and pin her beneath him, his wand pressed to her nose.  
  
"That, Ginny, was the stupidest thing you've ever done." Scared witless, they both caught their breath, and before Harry knew what was happening, Ginny was kissing him. She pulled away just as abruptly.  
  
"I don't care, Harry Potter. But pull a wand on me like that again, and I will kill you."  
  
They argued down their adrenaline, sniping at and manhandling each other at the same time. Neither one knew where the argument ended and the lovemaking began, but suddenly they were joined and for the second time that day, Harry felt the world stop. Looking down at her, he realized her eyes were wide with terror.  
  
"Ginny..." She moved around him, her heart racing.  
  
"I...Tom Riddle is gone..." Her face shifted, heartbreakingly, from terror to pure joy, as they both believed for the first time that Voldemort was truly gone.  
  
Their union was holier and more binding than any ritual.  
  
 _Well, maybe there's a God above_  
 _But all I've ever learned from love_  
 _Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya_  
 _It's not a cry that you hear at night_  
 _It's not somebody who's seen the light_  
 _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_  
  
The greatest lost secret of Wizarding History was that Lily Evans used to sleep with Severus Snape.  
  
Oh sure, they'd sworn to each other it was all in the interest of academics, as the fluids produced by two virgins were highly valuable. Snape once nauseatingly joked he'd sell his share to Slughorn--identities protected, of course. But the truth of it was, they were each others' first loves.  
  
She was Snape's only love. Ever. And he ruined it. He'd screwed it up--he'd be the first to admit that. He'd been too full of wounded pride and fury. Given time and a better fate, he may have been able to come to terms with it. He may even have been able to love again. But first she took up with that arse, Potter. Then, she married him. Then, she carried his demonspawn. And then, they died.  
  
Snape often had fantasies of owling to inform Potter that He'd Been There First, Nyah, but he knew Lily would kill him. Of course, they were dead now, so it was a moot point.  
  
And then Harry had appeared, and every glimpse of him was a knife to his heart. He constantly reminded himself he'd be fine if he could just look Harry in the eyes, but oh God, it was James's smug face every time. And that scar. The scar reminding him that it was his fault. His fault Lily was dead. His fault that mini-James had that hideous mark. His fault that he was no better than to sit in Hogwarts through his early adulthood and rot.  
  
And every time, every gods-damned time he had to throw a Patronus around Dumbledore, he always asked that irritating question.  
  
"After all this time?"  
  
"Always."  
  
Somewhere, behind a door on the third floor of Hogwarts, an enchanted harp played a mournful tune.  
  
 _Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah Hallelujah..._


End file.
